A Promise Kept
by MiaRose1912
Summary: Rose struggles with her memories of not just a days on the Titanic but also her memories of her life before the disaster as she enters a completley different world.
1. A Whole New World

A Promise Kept

Chapter One – A Whole New World

Rose squinted as the morning sunlight penetrated the portholes. She looked up at the beautiful hand carved white ceilings above her. They looked strangely familiar to her. It was almost as if she had been there before. She pushed herself up with her hands, and shoved the blue and green blanket around her, out of the way.

She wondered round the stately dinning room, hundreds of people, crying, hugging and frantically screaming. At first she couldn't quite remember why she was there, but then it hit. A wave of unimaginable pain floated through her, making the tops of her toes and her fingertips scream in agony. She knew why she was here. The ship had sunk the night before, she had been rescued.

_Rescued_. You could hardly call it rescued. She didn't feel safe, or happy, or relieved. She felt scared, alone and empty. As she walked around the room she felt numb. Everything was so surreal, like that Picasso painting she used to own – it was like being inside a dream or something – there was truth but no logic. Just as she began to slip into a daydream she heard a voice that pierced through her heart.

"This is absolutely ridiculous we arrived onboard about four hours ago, and you are telling me you cannot provide members of first class a full breakfast!?"

It was Cal. Her calculating fiancé. Ex-fiancé. Just the sound of his voice sent a chill up her spine, but filled her with rage at the same time. He couldn't see her. He wouldn't see her. She backed away from him, and disappeared through the door behind her.

She was outside, on the boat deck. The sun was rising above the waves. It was bewitching. She wandered around the deck. There were more people outside, probably double or even triple of that who were inside. They could have been steerage; they could have been second-class or even first. It was impossible to tell. It made Rose want to smile and cry at the same time. She leaned over the edge of the ship and gazed out at the horizon. There we icebergs dotted around the ship, big, small, smooth, jagged. It was almost as if they sat there, just to remind those who had forgotten what had happened. She stared icily at the sea below her, the water bobbing up and down against the side of the ship. She could her music in the distance. At first she couldn't quite make out what it was, but then, slowly, she began to recognize it.

_'Come Josephine, in my flying machine, and it's up she goes, up she goes..'_

It seemed as if the waves were dancing to the sound. The waves gently twisted and whirled into a man's face. It was Thomas Andrews. The designer of the late ship 'Titanic', and a friend of Rose. He looked at her, right in the eye, as a tear fell down his cheek. Rose gulped.

"It could have been prevented." He said, "if time had just given me a chance – this never would have happened. Please, believe me young Rose. I am eternally sorry."

Another tear rolled down his cheek and floated into a moustache and beard. It was Captain Smith. He looked so pale, so ghostly and ill. He didn't say anything, he just cried out with his eyes. The waves smashed together and suddenly Jack was looking at Rose. She smiled.

"Jack! Jack!" she screamed. No answer.

"Jack! You're safe, please! Give me your hand!" Still silence.

The wind blew hard against her face and the image of Jack's face disappeared into the water. Rose's tears dripped into the sea, one by one. The wind whistled around her ears, whispering, "Never let go".

"Never let go," she repeated, "Never let go."

Rose saw a space amongst the crowd of people, in the middle of the boat deck, and sat down. She was shivering, her hair still slightly damp, cold against her bare neck.

"Here, you look freezing, have this." A woman with curly blonde hair handed her a blanket.

"Thank you." Said Rose breathlessly. The woman didn't reply. Rose wouldn't ever see that woman again. But her kindness would always be remembered.

Rose took a deep breath in and closed her eyes. She felt sick. She was hungry, but couldn't eat. She was thirsty but couldn't drink. All she wanted was Jack. But he was gone, forever. Like a guardian angel he had swooped in and entered her life, and left just as quickly. And yet, after only knowing him for four days, she missed him. Terribly. The prospect of life without him made her want to jump off the side of the boat and just sink and sink, until she no longer existed. But she couldn't do that. Not now. She had promised him she wouldn't.

"Oh, this is steerage sir, you won't find any of your people down here." Rose heard a voice behind her say. She turned round and saw Cal ignore the advice of the steward and continue walking around the boat deck. He was looking for her. She pulled the blanket sharply over the back of her head, hiding her beautiful long red hair and waited. Cal walked along behind her, his black hair blowing in the wind. He missed her, and walked back into the inside of the ship. Rose heaved a sigh of relief. Little did she know that would be the last time she would ever see him.

Rose lied down on the hard wooden panels of the boat deck and closed her eyes, tired still.

She had loved Cal, once. She remembered when she first met him. At a dinner party, back home in Philadelphia. He had been a friend of her Mother's sister in law, Louisa. He had entered the room with pure sophistication. He was captivating. Rose was only fifteen and had had very little experience with the outside world. She was pretty, and more importantly, rich, which meant she should have found an adequate match fairly quickly. She was right. Cal immediately began to woo her. Although, at first, shocked and unsure, she was greatly flattered by his advances. After many a dinner party, and many dances, gifts and sweet words, Cal asked for her hand in marriage.

Her father had died when she was only eleven, leaving her mother and herself with nothing but a legacy of bad debts, hidden by a good name. Her mother's goal for her daughter was to marry her into a rich and prosperous family, to secure her family's future. At the time, Rose agreed, it was the best decision. Cal seemed like the perfect match. Not only was he good-looking, kind, young, generous but he was also royalty.

Rose's mother accepted Cal's proposal with enthusiasm and disbelief, as did Rose.

"Rose, Darling, you will be royalty. _We_ will be royalty." She would say constantly. Rose would smile in response and giggle slightly.

But during their engagement, things began to sour. Although Cal still smothered her with gifts and affection, she began to feel trapped.

By sixteen she was beginning to rather dislike him coming around to visit her. The first she could remember feeling this, was on March 23rd of 1911. She remembered the date because it was her mother's birthday. He mother had a dinner party and ball at their house. Cal, obviously, was invited (mainly for Ruth, rose's mother, to show off to her friends). Everything was fine until they sat down to dinner. Trudy, Rose's personal maid, was serving the starters.

"Ah! Miss Trudy! It smells wonderful." Said Sir Cosmo Duff Gordon, a close family friend, who would also be aboard the Titanic, the following year.

"Thank you, sir." Replied Trudy.

"Are you not hungry, Trudy?" asked Ruth.

"Of course she is!" interrupted Cal "Don't worry Trudy, we'll leave you the leftovers." He Laughed.

Rose was disgusted. She had always been aware that society was divided into classes, but there was no need for that.

Everyone else was laughing. She looked at Trudy, she could see something in Trudy's eyes – she wasn't sure what it was, she would find out eventually.

After the meal was finished the men left the table to have a cigar and a brandy in the smoking room, as was custom at a dinner party. Rose remained at the table with her mother, and Lady Lucille among others. She saw Trudy cross the room to enter the kitchen.

"Would, you excuse me for a moment?" Rose asked.

"Why, of course." Replied Lady Lucile.

Rose left the table and went into the kitchen.

"Trudy?"

Trudy spun around. "Yes m'am?"

"What happened earlier, with Mr.Hockley, I wish to apologize. It was extremely rude of him."

Trudy didn't reply.

Rose put her hand on Trudy's right shoulder. "You did not deserve that."

"Thank you madam." Trudy smiled. "I must get back to work."

"Of course." Rose replied. Trudy left the room carrying a silver tray with brandies to the men.

Rose stood in the kitchen and watched.

"Ah! Miss Trudy!" Cal exclaimed "My favourite girl." He slapped her bottom. The other men laughed. Trudy quickly walked away. Rose couldn't believe it. He had always seemed so polite – so – respectful.

The following day, he visited Rose for tea. She sat across the room from him, hardly able to look at him. There was a knock at the door. Rose saw Trudy rush towards the front door and open it.

"Oh hello. I am here to see Mrs. DeWittBukater." A woman's voice said quietly.

"Of course, please come in madam." Replied Trudy. She walked into the tearoom. "Um, Madam, the countess of Rothes is here to see you."

"Oh, yes. Would you excuse me?" Ruth replied.

Trudy smiled at Rose, who smiled back, and then left. Rose was alone with Cal for the first time.

"You should not be so familiar with your servants, Rose." He stated.

"Strange – you were more than familiar with my servants last night." Rose retorted.

"Excuse me?" Cal was completely taken aback.

"I saw you in the smoking room, with your hands all over her. What on earth possessed you to- "

"Oh, Rose. Sometimes you seem so young. You have so much to learn. "

"What do you mean?"

"She's a servant Rose. Nothing but a servant."

Those words stayed with her forever. After that day Rose began to notice Cal's behaviour. But she wanted to believe he was different, so she stuck it out. It was only when his behaviour rubbed off on her mother, when Rose began to realize her world that she had come to know so well, was rapidly falling apart. Ruth began to become more cold and heartless and what you could call politely rude. One day Rose and Ruth were both sewing in their main living quarters when Rose decided to confront her mother.

"Mother, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course, child. What is it?"

"Why must you insist on changing your behaviour towards myself and others when Mr.Hockley visits?"

"Well I couldn't behave they way I would normally around royalty, could I?"

"Why no?"

"Oh, Rose. Sometimes you seem so young." Rose couldn't believe her ears. A wave of anger floated through her.

At first she could not understand why her mother would act so strange. But soon she came to the conclusion that perhaps her mother was so frightened for her daughter's future that she was too worried to upset or insult Mr.Hockley.

They planned a July wedding, in Philadelphia. In the old church where Rose's parents had got married. Cal originally wanted to get married somewhere grand and spectacular, but Rose pushed and pushed for somewhere slightly more comfortable.

By January, life was already hectic. Rose thought of nothing but the wedding. The bridesmaid dresses, the invitations, the wedding dress, the food. There was so much to organize. By the time her Seventeenth birthday arrived on the 30th March, she was in need of a very long vacation. Cal arranged for Himself, Rose and her mother to go on a tour around Europe. They Left on April the 2nd and sailed to Cherbourg in France.

It was the first time Rose had been anywhere other than her hometown of Philadelphia. She soaked up the culture of different countries. Her most memorable experience during the holiday was when she stumbled into a Café in Paris, to find a moving picture being shown. She was captured and entranced by it and would always hold a love for film in her life. Every night she was in Paris she would watch a moving picture and sigh, wanting desperately to be one of those on the screen, but knowing, her future was now sealed – that dream was dead before it began.

The last night she was in Paris; she opened her window at started out at the endless stars. She felt nauseous. Maybe it was cold feet – maybe she was just being immature. Everyone kept saying that she was young, and had so much to learn. Or maybe, just maybe, they had something to learn. She didn't love Cal, not truly. She would not die for him, live for him or lie for him. Marriage was a symbol of love not possession. But in her mother and Cal's eyes it was simply what is supposed to be done. Society's unwritten rules that bound her like chains and dragged along the floor, following her wherever Rose went. After hours of thinking, as day began to break, she accepted this was what her life would always be like – parties, yachts, polo-matches....Cal. She knew it and she accepted it and surrendered to her fate.

Rose slipped into a deep sleep back on board the Carpathia, in a few days her whole world had been turned upside down. She did not know what the future held. It was frightening – yet liberating. She slept peacefully, knowing, deep in her heart, that she was finally going to experience a whole new world.


	2. The Only Way Out Is Through

A Promise Kept

Chapter Two – The Only way out is through

The rain was pouring heavily on Rose's shoulders. She looked up as the Carpathia pulled into the dock. She was back home. Well, almost. She didn't really have a home anymore. She would have to make everywhere a home, like Jack did. The Statue of liberty loomed in the distance; its green colour mixed with the raindrops glistened in the moonlight. It was so far away, yet Rose could see it in detail – almost as if she remembered it, as if she took a photograph in her mind the last time she saw it.

Rose looked down at herself, she was still wearing Cal's coat. He gave it to her on the night of the disaster – she was with Jack, deciding whether or not to get on a lifeboat. When Cal arrived, although the sight of him chilled her bones, she was almost glad to see him. She almost thought he cared. Until he said, "Yes, get on the boat Rose. My God you look a fright." She was still wearing her new beautiful purple and white slip-dress underneath Cal's jacket. She had bought it while she was in Paris, it was her second favourite. It was ruined now. The water had sunk into the delicate chiffon material – as if to remain as a reminder of what had happened to her.

She had never even had the chance to wear her first favourite dress. It was a beautiful pure white dress, with diamonds on it. It had a while material Rose on the left hand side, which held a bunch of the material up. She had had beautiful diamond earrings, necklace and a bracelet to match it. Still, no use crying over material things now. Not now. She knew it was worth nothing – nothing compared to happiness.

She stared at Miss liberty as she came closer. _Liberty_. The statue represented liberty and justice. It was hard to understand those two concepts so soon after the disaster. How could 1523 people loosing their lives possible give liberty to anyone? How could 1523 people loosing their lives serve justice? How could Jack dying be fair? She didn't know. Maybe, one day she would understand. But not now, it was too soon.

She let the raindrops fall on her face, her cheeks, and her nose – drops trickling down her neck. She was cold and hungry, but she didn't want to move. She didn't want to leave. She was too frightened; she was a woman – where would she get? She'd step off the boat and in a month's time she'd be in an alehouse selling herself to any man who had the money. No. She couldn't do that. It wouldn't be right. That wouldn't be her career choice – if she could have a career, but she'd have to make money to live. If only Jack was there with her. He'd know what to do, he'd know where to go, he'd look after her. But it didn't matter how much she missed him or willed for him to be with her – he was gone and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. But she loved him – truly she did..

She needed to do something – make a start as she meant to go on. She made a promise to Jack, to survive, no matter what happens and it would be hard, but she would die before breaking that promise. They may not be together in life anymore but they would be together one day, and she wanted him to be proud of her. She could do whatever she wanted now; she was free – thanks to him. She could conquer the world if she so wished. She wasn't a possession; she wasn't a trophy or a prize belonging to Cal. No, she wasn't Cal's anymore. She was Jack's, always and forever in her heart – she would always be Jacks.

"Can I take your name, please, love?" a young English accent spoke out. Rose thought for a moment.

"Dawson." She said "Rose Dawson." Now, history would remember her forever as Jack's.


End file.
